


April Showers

by nuuboo (orphan_account)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nuuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slow-build beginning to Kakashi and Iruka's relationship, road-bumps, flashbacks and all. Set during the timeskip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Showers

The ground was wet and cold and uncomfortable. He could feel his own blood leak down, dripping from the wound on his forehead to his temple, into his ear. It was an unpleasant sensation, but he didn’t have the energy to move his hand to clean it off. Above him, he could see bits of sunlight peeking through the leaves. It was a good vantage point down where he was at the base of an old, large tree; he could see the clouds beginning to clear, could hear the birds slowly chirping again as though relieved that the rain had stopped. 

The greens and yellows and browns blended together as he lost focus, refocused, and gave up. He stared dully, hearing the faint noises of cicadas hiding all around him, absorbing the sights and the sounds and the smells, committing it to memory. 

_Well, Umino... at least you picked a good place to die._

* * *

 

“Well?” said Hiruzen, puffing away at his old pipe. Anyone who didn’t know him well enough would’ve thought him calm, if not slightly annoyed, with only his bent eyebrows to indicate a deviation from happiness. “What news do you have?”

“N-nothing, sir,” said the freshly-minted jounin, looking nervously at his feet, head politely bowed. “The rain, sir, washed away any trail... We found signs of a fight, but we can’t tell which direction Umino-san went. There’s no trace of the other enemy-nin, either, except for the one body we found, and there wasn’t anything on him that we could use to---”

Hiruzen held up one hand, and the young man stopped. After a stifling silence, the Third Hokage sighed and said, “Keep searching.” 

He turned back to the window, pipe in his mouth, and the jounin took his sign to leave. He studied the carvings on the Hokage mountain, tracing his own face, much younger, with his eyes. He’s tired; he thinks he’s getting too old for this job, then remembers he’d felt so years before, when he’d offered Minato the position. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it up again. Maybe Danzo would have been more suitable, in the end. But he knew, too, that Danzo wouldn’t send a search party out for a chuunin Academy instructor whose name he wouldn’t even know, whose face he wouldn’t even recall. Hiruzen wonders if that’s how it should be, really. Is this the act of a good leader, or is it one of an old man favouring a young man he’d come to look upon as a son? 

“Iruka,” he said to himself, frowning, “where are you now?”

* * *

 

A raindrop fell from the tip of a leaf, and, after gaining impressive momentum, landed with an audible splat on Iruka’s forehead. He grunted, scrunching his nose, and blinked his eyes open. From the look of the light, some hours had passed. In a quick attempt at self-assessment, Iruka curled and uncurled his fingers. That was good. He couldn’t say the same about his toes, though. He wasn’t even sure he had them anymore. If he had the energy to lift his head, he’d check, but he didn’t. His luck only went so far. 

How did it end up like this? It was a simple mission: go to the meeting point, hand over the intel to what Iruka understood to be an undercover ANBU operative, and return home. It was only really a B-rank because of the ANBU’s involvement. Iruka would’ve called it a realistic C. Everything had gone smoothly until the third part of his mission. _Ironic_ , he thought. Going home was always the easiest part of the job. Maybe it was just his poor luck that landed him too close to the path of some rogue nin, who, upon seeing Iruka’s own headband, assumed the worst. He couldn’t blame them, he supposed. Any rogue would’ve thought the same. The fight ensuing turned ugly faster than he’d have liked. Impressed with his ability to quickly injure one and kill another, Iruka had, in a rare moment of idiocy, overestimated himself. It was only when the leader saw the damage to his friend that he chose to withdraw. _Even rogues have loyalty to their friends, huh?_ Iruka had thought then, stumbling away from the scene with what little chakra he had left. 

The gash at his side was too deep to brush off. He wondered if their kunai were poisoned, then thought that if they were, he’d have felt the effects by now. How long had it been?  Three, four hours, since he last woke, and a full two nights from his predicted return date. He’d planned everything down perfectly. He would have returned home early two days ago, washed up, gotten some rest, and returned to work on his lessons. He still had an entire hour of lecturing to plan out on the fundamentals of genjutsu. He’d thought to invite Kurenai, but remembered that Asuma had only just returned some days before, and he knew better than to ask for her time when it was in high demand elsewhere. But he could ask Kakashi. 

What was he doing now? Was he asleep? Was he training alone, or was he climbing a mountain one-handed with Gai? Iruka remembered suddenly the last conversation they had before Kakashi had left on another S-rank mission. They’d made plans for at Ichiraku’s, where Iruka would catch Kakashi up on the latest news from Naruto’s most recent letter. That was yesterday. Iruka closed his eyes again. To his right, he heard the rustle of nearby shrubbery, and deemed the source too small to be cause for concern. There wasn’t much he could do when the rabbit came a minute later, sniffing experimentally at Iruka’s hair, at the blood on his cheek. Iruka turned his head a fraction, and the animal scampered off, evidently not prepared for its find to be mobile in the slightest. 

 _I’m sorry I missed our dinner,_ he thought. _Ah... it’s not like he can hear your thoughts. What’re you doing? Don’t be an idiot._

It was another five minutes before the rabbit returned, approaching now from behind Iruka. Iruka could feel a light tug to one lock of his hair.

_Are you hoping now that he’d come rescue you? What are you, a damsel? That’s just great. You got yourself into this mess. Nobody should have to get you out of it. This is expected, right? This is all just inevitable. You go out, you do a mission, you screw up, you die. You’re a shinobi. Act like one._

* * *

 

Kakashi loitered at the doorway of the mission office, scanning the room. He recognized two of the desk workers from previous visits, but none sported Iruka’s pleasant smile or telltale scar or neat, wavy ponytail. Last night marked a notable first for Kakashi. He’d never been stood up before, but with how tardy he was himself, he thought he deserved it. Just not by Iruka, of all people---Iruka, who had been far too excited about showing Kakashi Naruto’s letter to pass up the opportunity. Kakashi even thought he’d foot the bill, too. 

“Can I help you, Hatake-jounin?” said a bright-eyed, chipper girl. Her cheeks were too red to be normal, and she stared at him intently enough for Kakashi to look away, tired. 

“Where’s Iruka?” he asked casually.

“Oh, Iruka-sensei? Um, he’s not here.” She waited expectantly for Kakashi to thank her for the useful bit of information, but upon realizing that Kakashi probably figured that out on his own some minutes before, she went all the more red and added, “He went on a mission. Um, five---no, six days ago, maybe? I don’t remember. Sorry. But I could check the schedule? See when he’s due back in?”

“Do that,” was Kakashi’s blunt reply. 

She hurried off, clearly embarrassed, and returned with the news that Iruka had actually been due to return two days before. “Maybe he’s just running late,” she suggested, pleased with her efforts to reassure the famous Copy Nin. Kakashi grunted, nodded once, and turned on his heels. If he looked back, he’d see that she was clearly still waiting for her thanks. He didn’t. 

The door to Hiruzen’s office was open, and Kakashi knocked once before letting himself in. 

“Here for another mission?” Hiruzen asks, exhaling a long, white stream of smoke. Kakashi was glad he had his mask on to shield at least some of the smell. “There’s the mission office for that.”

Kakashi looked around the office as though it was his first time entering it. Hiruzen waited patiently as Kakashi’s attention landed on an ugly vase on a corner table right beneath the line of Hokage portraits.

“Umino Iruka---he’s out on a mission,” he said at last. He was acutely aware of Hiruzen’s stare. “What kind of mission was it? Why was he assigned?” 

“An handoff,” Hiruzen replied obligingly. “We were short-staffed. The dead-drop point isn’t far off. He volunteered.” 

 _Of course he did,_ Kakashi thought, a pinch irritated. “He’s late,” Kakashi continued. Hiruzen nodded. Kakashi said nothing for a full minute. 

“...a small search party was sent,” Hiruzen said upon realizing that Kakashi wasn’t going to leave without more information. “The rain seems to have washed away his scent. Since it’s a forested area, it’s difficult to search.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kakashi asked, still staring at the vase. It really was an ugly thing, all reds and blues and oranges clashing unbecomingly. He couldn’t imagine Hiruzen picking it out himself. Maybe it was a gift, and Hiruzen didn’t know what else to do with it. It was empty, anyway. Better like that, he thought. 

“Why should I have done so?” asked Hiruzen, lifting his eyebrows just a bit. 

“My ninken could help.” 

“There isn’t a trail to follow, Kakashi.”

“You’re underestimating my dogs.” 

Hiruzen moved away, a trail of smoke following him around the room. He stopped at the window, looking out at it again. “Alright,” he said, nodding. 

* * *

 

A light drizzle had started again. Iruka felt the drops on his skin, soaking his clothes again. His side burned, his feet were numb, his head throbbed. He felt warm, sore, lethargic both from the fever and from the last dregs of chakra leaving him bit by bit. He would die like this, immobile, sick, hungry, alone. There was nothing heroic about it. How many shinobi had died like this before him? Most times, their bodies were never found, and their names were etched onto the memorial stone all the same. When he was younger, Iruka would think about those fallen and imagine them alive and well somewhere else, simply escaped from the shinobi life they left behind. Maybe some were rescued by travelers and were taken back to a small village, nursed back to health by a pretty girl they’d later marry and have three children with. 

But there was no remote possibility of that ever happening to _him_ , with his chosen deathbed smack in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Even the rabbit had left, the bastard. 

He thought about Naruto receiving the news of his death, and of how he’d cry and cry and cry. He wished Naruto wouldn’t, but that was inevitable. He wondered if they’d hold a funeral for him. Without his body, there wouldn’t be much to bury. Would Naruto return from his travels with Jiraiya to attend? Iruka hoped he wouldn’t do that, either. He’d exhausted what he could provide for Naruto some while ago, and had bid him farewell to better days ahead at the Konoha gates months back; to hinder his training even in death was an injustice Iruka wouldn’t want to have pegged to his name. 

He wondered if Kakashi would miss him, just a little. 

* * *

 

_“You must be lonely.”  
_

_Iruka turned around, surprised, and found Hatake Kakashi with his nose half-buried in Icha Icha Violence. It’s red cover seemed somehow offensive, and Iruka frowned. “Pardon me?”_

_“I said that you must be lonely.” Kakashi flipped a page. “With Naruto gone, that is. Who knows when he’ll be back. Empty nest syndrome, I think they call it.”  
_

_It was the most words Kakashi had ever spoken directly to Iruka, and Iruka stared, stunned, silent. Then he said, scrambling to regain his composure: “He wrote me a letter last week.” He said it defiantly, as though he already knew that Naruto hadn’t bothered to send Kakashi one. He silently dared Kakashi to challenge that. Kakashi didn’t._

_“How’s he doing?” Kakashi asked instead.  
_

_“Fine,” Iruka replied. Upon realizing that this was most likely Kakashi’s sincere attempt at making conversation (something Iruka was almost certain Kakashi was incapable of doing), he added, “They’re at a river. He’s been eating a lot of fish. He said he misses ramen.”  
_

_Kakashi hummed in response, and there was a lull in the conversation._

_“I could show you the letter,” Iruka offered, and immediately regretted saying it. Why did he say that, of all things? It’s not like Kakashi would care to read Iruka’s mail, Naruto be damned.  
_

_“Sure,” Kakashi said. If Iruka had bothered to pay more attention, he’d have caught the barest traces of Kakashi’s amused expression, but he was far too busy being simultaneously embarrassed and surprised to do anything more than stare.  
_

_“Okay. I’ll bring it with me tomorrow. I’ll be in the mission room after lunch.”  
_

_He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. He thought to ask Kakashi if he’d like to write Naruto a letter himself, and opened his mouth to do just that. He looked up, and Kakashi was gone._  

* * *

 

_“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Iruka asked, picking at the fried rice leftover on his plate.  
_

_“Hm... yeah.” Kakashi had ordered a cup of tea, and hadn’t touched it in the twenty minutes they’d been there. His mask remained on his face, and Iruka had taken to eating with his head down to try and create as much of a suitable environment for Kakashi’s de-masking as he could. It didn’t seem to work, and Iruka felt just a little disappointed.  
_

_“I guess I’m just worried. Lord Jiraiya really is... a bit of an improper influence when he wants to be, isn’t he?”  
_

_“He’s one of the Sannin,” said Kakashi, staring directly at Iruka.  
_

_“I---I know that! But Naruto needs to learn proper shinobi techniques, not---not how to write a porn novel. What if he comes back with all sorts of bad habits? He’s too young!”  
_

_Kakashi stared at Iruka, then to Icha Icha Paradise overturned on the table, then back to Iruka. Iruka held his gaze, once again defiant despite his reddening face. Kakashi’s quiet chuckling caught him off-guard. He’d wonder later if he simply misheard._

* * *

 

“Shiba, Akino, head South. Bull, Guroko, take North. Urushi, Bisuke, you’re West, and Pakkun and I will head East. Let us know the minute you’ve picked up anything---and I _mean_ anything. Understood?” 

A chorus of barks sounded, and Pakkun said, “You got it, boss.”

 _Where are you?_ Kakashi thought, jumping from tree branch to tree branch. Why didn’t you signal for help? Why did you volunteer? Why---

“Are ya worried, boss?” Pakkun asked, quick at Kakashi’s heels. He jumps forward, taking the lead, sniffing at the air and at the branches around him. 

“Have you found anything?” Kakashi replied, ignoring the question entirely. Pakkun made no comment about it, and said that he hadn’t yet picked up a trail, or a scent, or anything at all. Kakashi withheld a sigh. “Keep going.” 

A mile away, Guroko let out a loud, sad-sounding howl. Kakashi and Pakkun came to an abrupt stop, looked at each other, and took off in the new direction. When they arrived, Guroko nosed at the ground until she’d pulled a battered, worn forehead protector from beneath the bushes. Under the caked mud, the Konoha symbol was half-visible. 

* * *

 

_“Can you believe it?” Iruka said, grinning. “He said he found the seashell in the river, and he thought of me, and he saved it! And here it is! He sent it to me.” Iruka looked down at the plain, white shell that had been sitting on Ichiraku Ramen’s countertop for the past five minutes. Kakashi nodded, as he had been for the same amount of time, and listened patiently to Iruka’s excited chatter. “He **thought** of me! Isn’t he sweet? He really is **too**  wonderful. I’m happy that he hasn’t---well, forgotten all about me. And it’s such a nice seashell, too, isn’t it?”  
_

_Teuchi set down two bowls of ramen in front of them both and remarked that it was mighty kind of Naruto to think so fondly of Iruka from so far away._

_“What should I do with it? I’m keeping it, of course, but what should I **do** with it? Turn it into a keyring? A necklace? Do you think it’ll get lost? Should I just keep it in my wallet? Should I just leave it on the mantle?”   
_

_Kakashi peeled off his mask, picked up three noodles, and blew on his chopsticks. “Sakura knows about that jewelry-making business. You could ask her for the necklace.” He didn’t have to look to know that Iruka found the idea absolutely delightful, but he looked over anyway. Iruka was smiling at him, and he smiled back. He attributed the redness of Iruka’s face to his excitement, and turned back to his food._

_Iruka stared at the shell, then looked over to Kakashi again. In the kitchen, Ayame peeked out to give Kakashi a longing, love-struck expression (one that Kakashi missed entirely, with noodles taking priority). Iruka hid his smile well. He couldn’t blame her, really. He’d been just as surprised by Kakashi’s good looks the first time he saw his face, too._

_Over the course of three months, Iruka had come to spend more time with Kakashi than he’d anticipated. Enough, at least, for him to share his worries, his concerns, his hopes, and his faith for Naruto with Kakashi, who would always listen patiently, book pushed aside. Kakashi knew now about Naruto’s room in Iruka’s apartment, and how it wasn’t really a room at all when one thought about how small it was, but how excited Naruto was to decorate it. He knew about Iruka’s fishing lessons, and about Naruto’s first catch, and about the camping trips they took together. He knew about Naruto’s dislike for thunderstorms, and of the times he’d crawl into bed with Iruka on the worst of storming nights. He knew about the first time Naruto had called Iruka ‘dad’, and how Iruka got emotional enough to get all teary-eyed, and how Naruto panicked, certain he’d caused Iruka some awful feeling._

_He’d listened, patient, and absorbed Iruka’s expressions as though committing them to memory for further review later. On many occasions, he’d found Iruka’s smile bright enough to be contagious, or at least enough to shake the lingering bits of heaviness from his morning visit to the memorial stone that day. Maybe it was because of that that he kept coming back. He didn’t even like ramen._

_Iruka’s invitations had become more frequent, and Kakashi found himself adjusting his training with Gai to suit them. When Gai asked where Kakashi’s sudden fondness for eating out came from, Kakashi pointed out that Gai had broken the three-hour silence, and that he’d therefore lost the challenge. Gai, of course, vowed to win the next time, but gave Kakashi a curious glance anyway._

* * *

 

_“Iruka’s a good guy,” Gai said suddenly, mouth half-full with curry-flavoured onigiri. “Good with the kids. Konoha’s next generation is in good hands.”  
_

_Kakashi chose not to comment, and instead thought about Gai’s excessive use of ‘good’ and of how suddenly this conversation started._

_“I saw you two lunching at Ichiraku’s,” Gai continued, as though reading Kakashi’s mind. Kakashi remained silent. “Actually, I’ve seen you there maybe three times lately. Maybe I’ll join you two next time. Does Teuchi-san have a curry ramen?”  
_

_“He does not,” Kakashi replied, finishing off one (thankfully) plain, salted onigiri.  
_

_“Yosh! Then I must advise him to create one!” said Gai, who’d waited an appropriate few seconds to enjoy the fact that Kakashi seemed eager---as much as Kakashi was ever eager---to change the subject._

_Kakashi grunted in response, and picked up another onigiri from the box._

_“You know, Kakashi, it’s good that you’re meeting with him.” Gai could all but hear Kakashi’s silent groan, and chose to chuckle instead of drop the topic. “Really, I mean it. You seem happier lately. I bet you haven’t even noticed that.” When Kakashi looked up, Gai laughed heartily. “But you wouldn’t notice if you grew a third eye! It’s part of your ‘cool exterior’, no doubt!”_

_Kakashi’s chewing slowed, and he stared at the dangling bit of dried seaweed from his onigiri.  
_

_‘You seem happier lately’, Gai had said. Happier? Him? He wondered._

* * *

 

The headband was undoubtedly Iruka’s. Kakashi sighed, looked around, and then said, “Use this and find a trail.” 

The other parties in the search team agreed to split up, having unconsciously but willingly fallen under Kakashi’s command. He stared at the marks scratched into the trees around them, and then at the two kunai Shiba had dug up nearby. The clear signs of the fight showed no proper indication of where Iruka would’ve gone, and Kakashi stared at the sky, noting its darkening clouds. 

 _Another rain spell,_ he thought, frowning. _Iruka... has he found shelter?_

The bushes up ahead looked damaged, but not enough to draw anyone’s attention but his own. It could’ve been the rain; there was a hard falling of it the first night Iruka spent out past his return date. It would be a stretch to connect any dots there, but Kakashi had little else to work with. 

“Pakkun,” he said, motioning to the bushes. “This way.”

* * *

 

How many days had it been now? Or had merely another few hours passed since he asked himself this? The birds had stopped singing. The only noises he could hear beyond the patter of rainfall were the rustling sighs of tired trees, and he sympathized with them. _Must be hard,_ Iruka thought _, standing all the time... hot sun, harsh rain, hot sun... harsh rain._

He couldn’t feel his hands. The numbness had begun spreading hours back, from his legs, to his side, from the tips of his fingers to his elbows. He’d read about poisons that worked like this---the ones that took days to take effect, carefully-designed so that even if the target escaped, they wouldn’t last a week longer. 

Would he remain out here that long, waiting for the numbness to reach his heart, or would the fever take him before then? 

_I should’ve told him. That time... at the bridge... I should’ve told him. Now I’ll die with a regret. What would’ve happened if I did? If I told him how I felt... how I was beginning to feel... he’d probably be embarrassed. Maybe I would’ve regretted telling him. Now I only... regret not taking that leap._

_Is this bravery? Would I do it if I could just... go back in time? Ha. Maybe not. Umino Iruka, twenty-four, afraid of petty rejection. What a coward I am. What a coward I am..._

_I should’ve told him. I should’ve told him then._

* * *

 

Kakashi saw the foot first, standard-issue navy sandals from just behind some shrubbery. He was on his knees in an instant, assessing the damage to Iruka’s side, checking the wound on his head. 

“Iruka,” he said, tapping Iruka’s cheek lightly. Iruka’s skin was hot to the touch, paler than normal. “ _Iruka_ ,” Kakashi said again, more authority in his voice as though he could scold Iruka back to consciousness. Iruka remained unresponsive, and Kakashi heard Pakkun’s howl echo around them. “Medic,” he called, hearing the approaching footsteps. “ _I need a medic, dammit---!_ ”

The party’s medic skillfully detected the poison involved, thanks in part to one of the retrieved kunai from earlier. After unhelpfully announcing that Iruka’s side wound had become infected and swollen, an irritated glance from Kakashi sent his hands ablaze with soothing, green chakra.

“Iruka,” Kakashi said again after the medic’s advice to wake him, “can you hear me? Iruka. Hey, hang in there. Can you hear me? Hang on...”

When Iruka did wake, it was to the wind in his face making his eyes water. He caught bits of green whirring past him, and felt an unfamiliar warmth that certainly wasn’t the muddy ground he’d picked out for himself. He must have made a sound, because Kakashi’s voice sounded in his ear soon afterwards.

“How are you feeling?” Kakashi asked. Iruka thought it a bit of a stupid question. Every square inch of his body burned with the fever, though the burn in his limbs meant _feeling_ had returned, and that, at least, was a bonus. “Iruka? Can you hear me?”

Iruka wondered if some higher power thought this was funny. Maybe he was lucky. Maybe he was being toyed with. Maybe his parents weren’t ready to see him on the other side just yet. 

“Iruka?”

He’d take it. This was a blessing---a miraculously-timed one at that. He knew that himself. Angering the Gods would be a shame, wouldn’t it? _Where’d your bravado go, Umino? Or did that only come with the poison?_

“Kakashi,” he said, closing his eyes. His voice sounded unfamiliar even to himself, raspy and hoarse and broken. He smiled, tired, content to leave his head against Kakashi’s shoulder. “I think... I think really like you.”

* * *

 

He was thankful he’d passed out after that. He didn’t get to hear Kakashi’s pause, or the  _‘What?’_ that came afterwards, staccato. He didn’t see the medic nearby turn to look, almost slipping off the branch, or the way Kakashi fixed him with a look that made him turn around again obediently. He didn’t hear Pakkun say,  _‘Did he say somethin’, boss?’_ , or hear Kakashi reply,  _‘...just mumbling’_. He didn’t see Pakkun’s puppy-dog grin, or hear Kakashi’s sigh when he, too, saw it. 

With the fever coming and going, he’d slept most of the way back. Tsunade had shut Kakashi out of the room the minute Iruka was laid onto a bed, and only let him in hours later to reveal a bandaged, fresher-looking Umino Iruka, fast asleep with a drip at his side. She wasn’t surprised when Kakashi pulled up a chair. A nurse brought him a towel; he hung it loosely around his neck, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. 

“Hey,” Iruka said.

Kakashi looked up, stared for a second, and returned the greeting. “You look better.” 

“Thanks,” came Iruka’s reply. The vase of flowers at his bedside caught his eye, and he blinked, surprised, at the sheer hideousness of the blue and red and orange vase that housed the clashing, yellow dandelions. “...did you put those?”

Kakashi scratched awkwardly at his hair, picking just then as a prime time to towel dry the rest of it. “Room was... too white,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for Iruka to hear. Almost. When Iruka didn’t reply, he said, louder, “You’ll have to provide an account of what happened. Ibiki will stop by once he knows you’re awake.” 

Iruka managed a nod, and silence settled like a blanket. He let it continue for a moment before saying, “I meant it. What I said.” When Kakashi looked up, Iruka continued. “I just don’t want you to think it was because of the fever. It wasn’t.” 

Kakashi looked down again, studying the scuff marks on the tiled floor. Some were from trolleys, some from beds being moved, some from those awfully loud shoes the nurses wore. He always did find them inappropriate for a quiet hospital setting. 

“I’ve enjoyed it,” Iruka said. “Our time together. You were right. I was lonely without Naruto. Empty nest syndrome. But it was better with you. Not... that you’ve come to take his place, or anything. That would be... kind of weird.” Iruka smiled, and Kakashi found himself fighting back one, himself. “I thought I’d die out there. If you didn’t come... I would have. I didn’t think you would. I thought a lot of things. When you’re lying there... all you can do is think. Maybe it helps you hang on a little longer. I have you to thank for that if it does---for filling my head... so that I thought about you until help came. Until you came. I regretted not saying it sooner. That’s what I thought. I thought that if I could reverse time, I’d tell you on the bridge that day. I thought... you’d be embarrassed. But I wanted to say it anyway. That was selfish of me, I guess.”

In his silence, Kakashi had come to count twenty-five scuff marks on the nearest tile. He felt warm---his face, his hands, his body, his insides---warm from Iruka’s voice, from Iruka’s words, from the way Iruka smiled. 

‘You look happier these days,’ Gai had said. Was this it? Was this what he was talking about? 

“I can’t make you happy,” Kakashi said, quiet.

“You already have,” Iruka responded kindly.

Kakashi didn’t argue further. There was no point in it, he told himself. And maybe he just didn’t want to. Maybe there was a part of him that liked hearing this, the same way he found himself liking Iruka’s smile, and his laugh, and the way he lit up at the mere mention of Naruto. Maybe he wanted the idea of happiness for himself, even if he didn’t deserve it. Maybe Iruka could change that. Maybe he wanted that---change. 

“You feeling for Ichiraku Ramen?” Kakashi asked, looking up. Mask down, he offered Iruka a tired, worn smile that reached all the way to his eyes. There was little he felt he could offer Iruka, but if what little he had made Iruka as happy as he said it did, maybe there was hope. Maybe things could work. Maybe they’d have their chance. It had been a long time since Kakashi could remember the taste of affection thrown his way with purpose, just for him. It had been even longer since he’d ever felt like accepting it. 

“Yeah,” Iruka said, smiling. “We missed our date.”


End file.
